


Victory is Not Enough

by hrhrionastar



Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: Episode: s01e08 Denna, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-02
Updated: 2012-06-02
Packaged: 2017-11-06 14:04:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/419713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hrhrionastar/pseuds/hrhrionastar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU for <i>Denna</i>. Kahlan arrived too late. Denna broke the Seeker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Victory is Not Enough

_Denna: "Nothing will please me more than to see the Seeker stand at the gates of the People's Palace, and there, before the multitudes, take the hand of Lord Rahl and pledge his undying love and fealty to him."_  
 ****  
Two men stood at the edge of the balcony. Behind them rose the towers and turrets and twisted stone friezes of the People's Palace. Far below them thousands craned their necks and stared.  
  
Denna watched Lord Rahl from the shadow of a slight overhanging piece of roof. She admired how well his ankle-length vest flattered him. Sunlight shone on his muscular arms.  
  
Before him stood the Seeker of Truth.  
  
Richard.  
  
Denna ignored the swirl of emotion and memory that hovered like a dark cloud beneath her perfect Mord'Sith impassivity.  
  
Of all the men and women she'd trained, all the people she'd broken, the Seeker was the first to erode her faith in herself and her mission.  
  
Richard took the hand of Lord Rahl. He knelt, the sheathed Sword of Truth clattering faintly against the stone of the balcony and glinting its authenticity for the crowd. He looked every inch the Seeker.  
  
"Master Rahl guide us," said Richard. His voice was magically carried to the far corners of the crowd below.  
  
Those warm brown eyes were fixed on Lord Rahl. Filled with an innocent desire to please—though not a desire to please his lord.  
  
The king of D'Hara did not even meet that clear gaze, his own eyes drifting closed as if to fully savor the Seeker's submission.  
  
"Master Rahl teach us." The thousands below had joined the chorus now. But Richard's voice was the loudest. His devotion the purest.  
  
His devotion to _Denna_. He loved Lord Rahl only because he loved his mistress, and Lord Rahl was her master.  
  
"Master Rahl protect us. In your light we thrive."  
  
Denna said the words, but in her head she sneered futile defiance. Light? Darken Rahl? It was nearly a jest.  
  
Denna had seen true light reflected from Richard's soul.  
  
Until he had killed the Confessor for her.  
  
"In your mercy we are sheltered."  
  
Lord Rahl would not be merciful if Denna took Richard and led him in a new rebellion against his older brother and declared herself queen of D'Hara and failed to kill Darken Rahl first.  
  
Such an attempt would fail.  
  
Lord Rahl believed that he had defeated the prophecy.  
  
And why not?  
  
"In your wisdom we are humbled."  
  
Denna had earned her place as Lord Rahl's First Mistress. She had proven herself over and over.  
  
She let her fingers brush her agiel. Pain spiraled up through her blood.  
  
It had been Denna's honor to train the Seeker.  
  
Lord Rahl had permitted her to keep the Confessor as her pet, at least until his tame wizard figured out how to control the woman's powers.  
  
After Richard had killed her, Denna had hung the Confessor in chains and bound her neck with a Rada'Han and revived her and waited.  
  
"Is this the Underworld?" Kahlan Amnell had asked.  
  
Denna had not needed to use much of her famous skill with the agiel.  
  
Kahlan had lost Richard forever. She was already broken.  
  
And she was Lord Rahl's, too. Everyone was.  
  
Denna had risen to the rank of First Mistress, Lord Rahl's closest advisor. There was no higher honor to scheme for.  
  
Ambition burned in her blood anyway.  
  
"We live only to serve," Denna said. She stared at her lord with a love so strong it was hate, or a hate so strong it was love.  
  
"Our lives are yours," Richard promised.


End file.
